


Gaze

by meanderingvoid (meanderingsoul)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Interspecies, Licking, Non-Consensual Groping, Other, Pre-Relationship, Restraints, Season/Series 05, Serious Injuries, Size Difference, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 06:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingvoid
Summary: The Kree woman kept staring at her.





	Gaze

 

The Kree woman kept staring at her.

Every once in a while she blinked slowly, turned the metal orbs past each other in her palm. Her blood wasn’t on them anymore.

Melinda could get out of these chains if she had to. She knew she could - slip her thumbs out of joint, lose some skin from her heels. She could get loose.

But where would she go?

There was nowhere to run to and she _couldn’t fucking run_ right now anyway. It wasn’t worth the additional injury. Better to wait. In situations like this, she’d been trained to wait. Wait if possible, wait for extraction, usually wait for Coulson.

She wanted to run.

The woman blinked again. Slowly.

Melinda kept staring at the floor between her knees and watched the room in her periphery. She’d woken up in these chains, two of the bulkier Kree just leaving the room. Concentrating on not shivering and tensing her muscles rhythmically was keeping her awake. She wanted to pass out. Where her leg wasn’t numb it burned. Where the steel orb had knocked it out from under her it ached. She wanted to pass out and just wake up in the right place and time, in the right world.

Hell, while she was at it she wanted a hot shower and a big glass of scotch on Phil’s couch and then to curl up in her own bed with clean sheets and no leg wound that was probably going to get infected and kill her.

This room was small, featureless, no windows. Two tables and no chairs. Metal straps along the walls for chains. A holding area. Eventually they’d move her somewhere else, give her an opportunity.

But the woman just kept _watching her_.

Melinda was only assuming woman, assuming that Kree had the same sort-of-but-not-really binary as humans. But it was just assumptions. Not intel. She only knew how hard they could hit, from the bruises on her back and knuckles. She didn’t even actually know if they were _mammals_.

She’d obviously been listening to Simmons babble too much recently.

(Or she’d listened to too many Hydra Biological Strategy briefings.)

Something shifted with the faintest rasp, but she knew it was a boot on the deck. Melinda glanced up from where she waited.

Those strange, yellow eyes were fixed on her, on her body, ignoring her face. Melinda let herself look over her opponent - the dried facepaint, the heavy braid, the lack of weapons that she could steal.

And then hands closed around her sides and pulled her off the floor.

She brought her chained hands up, but they were quickly pinned to her belly, the woman leaning in close enough to press Melinda’s body between the metal wall and her heavy torso, toes just barely scraping the floor.

A large, blue hand rested delicately on her shoulder, just over her breast. Then the Kree just _stared_ again.

Melinda could beat this enemy on a good day. They were more durable than she was, she knew that for sure now, but she was usually faster. She could out-maneuver them, use the wall or floor to take them out.

Today was not a good day.

A knee nudged her thighs apart, ignoring the presence of the raw wound and dragging a ragged sound from her throat. It pressed her closer, leant weight against the crux of her legs, her hips. That blank face and yellow eyes bent down towards her throat.

Oh God she was _smelling_ her.

The door opened.

There was a moment her heart lurched in stupid, _stupid_ hopeful relief. Coulson had come to get her, but no, of course he hadn’t. She’d told him to go and the others needed him there. He wouldn’t even know to look yet.

It was another Kree, tall, male, also with a painted face. He moved gracefully, but loose, not a fighter.

But with the thigh shoved between hers and the torso against her ribs, she could feel the alertness settle through the Kree woman’s body. This was whoever she thought it was worth listening to, probably whoever was in charge here.

“So, this is the fighter? What a little thing.”

The woman turned to look over her shoulder at him. There was something too-deliberate in the way she moved. Not mechanical, but not warm-blooded.

“You’re right. You’re right of course, Sinara. Speed counts for so much in so many things. We know that well.”

Sinara turned back to her with a half-lidded gaze. She stroked a thumb heavily over her bruised cheek.

May hadn’t had sex since before Andrew died, since before _both_ times she’d watched him die. Hadn’t really been touched…

Phil had picked her up from that rack and clutched her to his chest and he’d been so warm she’d wanted to _cling_.

It’d been awhile, but that didn’t mean she missed it when someone wanted to fuck her. Couldn’t ignore it now.

“Such soft creatures, aren’t they Sinara?”

Melinda tried not to gag when her fingers gently tucked her hair behind her ear, the dark strands tugging through the drying blood on her face.

“Hm. You know how I prefer to admire from afar.”

He didn’t come too close. She wouldn’t have been able to shove Sinara back, she was too heavy, too well balanced, and the chains meant she couldn’t kick out with her good leg, but right now it really didn’t fucking matter. These were just better thoughts to have than the fingers trailing over her collar bones.

“It is a shame she’ll perish in the arena, but you need only ask.” The Kree said it with a smile.

The door closed.

It was still the same as before. She couldn’t afford to fight her way out, to twist herself to slip these chains and try to run. It was too far to go and too little chance of success.

But this wasn’t the first time someone had looked at her and thought she’d make a fun fucktoy. They were always wrong.

May snarled into her face with her bloodied teeth.

Sinara caught her jaw in tight fingers and dragged her tongue in a slow lick across her cheek.

It was a cooler tongue than a humans. Slicker. The Kree held her head still so Melinda had to see her swallow.

“After,” she said.

It would have been fine if the woman just dropped her. Instead she lowered her gently to the floor, sliding her thigh out from between Melinda’s legs and trailing fingers over her mouth.

She was too started to even try and bite, cheek still damp in the cold air.

The threat of _after_ made it easy, easy to know what to ask for once she was down, on her back and unable to stand with blood soaking into her clothes and the woman’s yellow eyes still following her every move.

The surface of the earth was horribly cold. Forsaken in a way nothing else she’d seen before had truly been. The night sky was too crisp, too dark. The dryness of the air caught in her throat and the acrid smell immediately reminded her of an underground gun range she’d been in once. Dust and bitterness.

She was so grateful for it though, not to be inside.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's amazing how fast a fic can move when you're in a terrible mood and not debating yourself over every word. Sinara was creepy and hot as hell. I started this back in Janurary. It's a little less indulgent hate-sex and a little more suspense, but it turned out alright. (Sorry May!)


End file.
